The Portland daily press., 1887-10-01

shield of gold balanced against the black vel
vet wall of the autumn night universe. What
we said and what we did and what we
thought it matters not. 1t would be to you
very like chestnut, perhaps, to dwell upon
it. Every woman knows who has ever been
10; every man remembers who knew what it
| was to be %.
Well, one day when | entered the house l
had surprise. l had heard rumors of there
being wounded rebel officer in hiding at
the Sunderlands. had paid no attention to
them, however, believing them to be without
foundation. But on this day, entering the
house as usual without knocking. opened
the door of the reception room or parlor, the
first door on the right hand side of the hall,
which ran through the house. There was a
large fireplace in this room on the side oppo-
site the door. As l stepped in | saw an easy
chair, high-backed, in front of this fire. l
was instantly conscious in some way-for
certainly saw nothing of him-that man
and stranger, was sitting in that chair /
did not attempt to see any more. | stepped
out, closed the door, and quietly took a chair
In the sitting-room opposite. In moment
or two the eldest daughter came in hurriedly,
pale and agitated.
Mr. she gasped. Did you go into the
other room?'
"I did, said l.
Did you see anybody
Il did not answered very quietly. She
looked me squarely in the eye. / looked
squarely back. She bowed and, apparently
relieved, passed out.
'She had scarcely gone before Addie came
in. She was confused at seeing me in the
sitting room.
"'0h. Mr. she said, and then stopped
in perplexity.
"'What is it?' l asked.
:" I was going to ask-I-that is-did you
go into the other room?'
"I did said |.
Did you see anybody
{" i did not
And then, with the same question on her
lips, Ellen came in, ignorant of what had
occurred with the others. She was very
grave, almost sad. She asked me the same
question in low, and appealing tone.
did not like even a subterfuge with her.
When she asked if | had penetrated the mys-
ferrous apartment asked, shaking my head.
And why? Is there anything in this
house to conceal?'
The eldest sister, who had returned shook
her head in denial. 1t was no wonder. He
was her husband, suppose. / looked at
Ellen and Addie. They looked away They
never looked as lovely at least to me. For
they would not tell lie and they trusted me-
well, heard no more of the stranger,
and things ran on as before for week or two.
Then there came repeated ruMors of the
guerrillas in the neighborhood and we began
to take extra precautions. continued to
call daily at the Sunderlands, and one after
noon as was going away Ellen seemed par
ticularly i'll at ease. She was nervous, hest
tating, and altogether unlike herself / said
goodbye to her at the porch and went out to
my horse AS was about to mount she
came out of the house and toward me, bear
ing long, rich, crimson silk scarf, with fine
tassels of white silk at either end. She held
it out to me, saying:
"'Will you wear this-for me?'
:" Il cannot rob you said. Outside of
the guitar | believe it was the only thing of
any value that she had left in the world.
Please wear it. she said. And while |
hesitated she deftly put it around my neck,
and before / suspected had put her arms
around, too, and had kissed me squarely on
the lips. AS looked at her. quite staggered
in an altogether happy state of surprise, the
tears sprang to her eyes, she turned away,
and went hastily into the house.
II rode down the road slowly. Her con-
duct was so strange, the memory of the kiss,
the first and last she ever gave me, was so
tenacious that it drove everything else out of
my mind. My rein fell upon my horses |
neck, and if there had been hostile sharp
shooter or rebel troop anywhere about / |
would have been an easy prey. l had five |
men with me, but they had gone further up
the road and did not wait for them. l rode
thoughtfully along during most of the way
for four miles, Finally approached The
Gap, the place of which l spoke the darkest
and most secluded section of the whole dis
lance.
"As l entered it l heard some one calling
behind me. In little while / recognized
Josh, my negro cook, who had been visiting
some plantation. He was afraid, suppose.
and wanted protection, though he made some
other excuse for calling. refined up in the
ohouO VI q uiS LII Ny d WllbC ldllcu bTuUk III
the Gap and waited for him; waited perhaps
five minutes. l sat twisting the tassels of
the scarf and thinking of Ellen. was an
easy mark as / sat there, dead shot for any
man in hiding who had ever looked along a
gun barrel
Then, with Josh a short distance behind,
journeyed onward. l stopped at planta
ton some miles further down and waited for |
my men. They did not come. l went back |
to camp, got detachment, and went out to |
to look for them. We found them all in the |
Gap. They lay in the road in the shadow of |
the big fir, by the white fallen trunk, riddled
with bullets from guerrilla ambush, and
had been shot dead from their saddles not
ten minutes after passed the spot
There was a silence for some minutes as
the listeners gathered his meaning Finally
one suggested:
''You probably kept that scarf
''Well, rather. 1t saved my life to GER
tainty. never saw her again, for our orders
took us away that day. But"
The commander-in-chief, by slow and de-
liberate puffs, relighted his extinguished
cigar.